


Meanwhile (in a Crack Fic)

by FauxPause



Series: 10k & Counting [2]
Category: Voltron Force (2011), Voltron: Legendary Defender, Voltron: Lion Force (1984)
Genre: 80's Voltron Lance, Adam/Shiro is mentioned, Blade of Marmora Lance (Voltron), BoM lance, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Humor, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Krolia is new to this 'mom' thing, Laith, M/M, Multi, Multiverse, Plot Lite, Shiro is not, Worldbuilding, klance, klance is hinted at, techincally?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-10-18 16:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17584409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FauxPause/pseuds/FauxPause
Summary: In which Pidge and Hunk break reality in search of Lance, Keith tries to keep everyone alive while maintaining SOME dignity, Romelle just wants to be included, Shiro wants to go back into the Black Lion for another nap and Allura is sick of not understanding anyone’s references. For those wondering, Coran and Krolia have washed their hands of this nonsense.





	1. Beta

The Red Lion is unresponsive. 

It’s… unnerving. Keith can't get a read on her. Can't tell if she's mourning or angry or searching. 

There's no particle barrier. No blockade other than the general bulk of of her metal frame and closed jaws. 

The lights are off. No one's home. 

They weren’t sure if she’d gone dark right after Lance had vanished or if she’d only shut down once Keith had attempted to gain entry planetside. Either way, they’d had to drag her back the same as Blue. It’d been unsettling, to say the least, watching Black’s massive jaws carefully lock over the smallest lion. 

“Reminds me of Black.” Hunk mused, “You know, when Shiro-”

“Shiro wasn't struck by space lightning.” Keith snapped.

Allura, at least, shares his unspoken skepticism. “While there are similarities between the two situations it is-” she paused and glanced over at the Black Lion, “-unlikely that the Red Lion would be able to affect Lance the same way Black had Shiro.” 

“What does that mean?”

Allura blinks. “The Lions cannot interact with their Paladins without a sufficiently strong quintessence bond.”

It was Keith’s turn to be surprised. “But she’s let Lance pilot her…”

Allura stood quietly for a moment before noticing his insistent gaze. She shrugged.

“Lance has not demonstrated any mastery of, or even accessed, any of the Red Lion’s unique functions.”

That… didn’t sound good.

“So little knowledge is left about my father’s creation… Less now that the castle is-” She broke away from that train of thought. “I can only assume that Lance’s quintessential matrix and the Red Lions are unable to bond as strongly. Perhaps it is due to the-”

The ensuing debate about energy signatures and quintessence made his head hurt. Keith pinched the bridge of his nose, reaching his limit faster than he’d like in this ‘crisis’. 

“Let's get Red open.” He announced, certain that a tangible course of action would help calm everyone’s nerves. “If I can get her to wake up we might be able to work out where Lance is. And worst case,” He stopped and nodded to Shiro, who was doing a bad job of pretending he wasn’t hovering, “Worst case, I'll fly Red again while Shiro takes Black. Just in case we need Voltron.”

* * *

Pidge, Green and Hunk manage to pry open Red’s jaws without damaging her. Much. From there it’s a short jet-packed assisted haul to the cockpit and an even shorter time spent sitting in the dark for one thing to become inescapably clear:

Keith cannot wake the Red Lion. 

“I never considered…” Allura’s surprise is palpable. Something about Red’s unnerving silence is enough to make her stutter a bit as she turned towards him, “Keith, it may be that because the Black Lion has accepted you... the Red Lion will not respond to your call again”.

It’s possible. It sounds logical, makes a sort of sense even. Except- 

Except Allura’s hesitating. Fingers curling through empty air where the hem of her dress would usually be. He’s not the only one who spots her tell. Pidge cuts in, all genuine curiosity.

“Or?”

“Or... Perhaps-”

Keith cuts the princess off, putting voice to the fear that had stalked him through his time with the Blades. “Maybe I'm just not the Red Paladin anymore.”

There’s a cacophony as everyone rushes to reassure him. 

Its - its nice. More than nice, how quick the team is to lay claim to him. He smiles amid the flurry of protests (“How could you say that! Of course you’re a paladin!”) and reassurances (“Dude! I kept the red armor clean for you and everything!”) that two years ago would probably have done more to convince him of the opposite. Now, though...

Keith put his hands up, heart near to overflowing.

“I mean - of course I…” He trailed off and turned to Allura, thoughts unspooling as he walked his tongue across the words. “I mean, there's no doubt that you're Blue's Paladin…”

Allura, thankfully, gets the idea before Coran can sob reassurances into his shoulder again. 

“Oh.” she said, looking pleased and a little ill at the same time. 

“That’s not a bad thing?” He peered at Coran and Shiro for help, not sure what he’d said wrong. The two men look blankly back at him. Coran honks a truly frighteningly forceful snort into a square of cloth he’s pulled out of nowhere. 

“If I truly am the Paladin of the Blue Lion then where...” The queasy look was subsuming her flush of pride quickly, “Where does that leave Lance?”

“I don’t know, purple?” Pidge joked. She elbowed Hunk in the side, waiting for a reaction.

Hunk didn’t laugh.

“Oh.” The Yellow Paladin echoed, leaning forward a little. He balled up a fist in front of his lips. Now he looked a little sick, great. “Okay, no, I got it. Urp.”

Keith took a prudent step back out of the possible splash zone. 

_ With Allura in the Blue Lion and Lance still wearing the blue armor… _ The halfing’s brow furrowed.  _ Did this just not come up? _

It didn’t seem like a negligible issue, even if it involved Lance.

_ I didn’t sense anything when we fought Lotor… _

Discord, malcontent, irritation- it was pretty hard to hide a grudge when Voltron formed. 

It didn’t make any sense. The connection he’d felt from the other paladins hadn’t seemed out of place at all. And Lance? Ignore a chance to mark himself out as ‘important’ or ‘special’? 

_ Yeah, right. And I’m a pretty princess. _

Honestly, the odds on that were-

“He's okay, right? I mean…” Pidge murmured into her wires.  

She, and everyone else, turned to look at Shiro. 

After a moment the oldest human noticed the pairs of eyes focused on him and startled - raising his only hand before his chest as though to ward off their expectations. 

“I thought we agreed that Lance  _ isn’t  _ on the astral plane?”

Pidge hummed. “We won't know for sure until I identify what hit the Red and Blue Lions.”

“I thought you knew what they,” Keith gestured towards the still visible and flashing fractures in the sky, “were?”

Pudge pushed her borrowed glasses up the bridge of her nose. “No, I said I knew how to close them.”

To think, he’d sincerely missed these guys back on the whale. 

* * *

“You think Lance is  _ where _ .”

Pidge seemed irritated by his skeptic not-question.  _ Good _ . Keith had asked her for a logical solution, not fantasy and unproven theories. 

“He’s in an alternate universe.”

There’s a pause as everyone takes that in. 

“The multi-verse has never been proven…” Shiro trails off as he takes in the almost-sheepish glances bouncing from Hunk to Pidge to Allura (of all people). “Alright. What don’t I know?”

He turns to Keith only to find the other looks just as lost and frustrated as he does. Well, at least he’s not alone. 

Hunk pokes his fingers together, a sure sign that Shiro isn’t going to like what he says next. 

“We, uh, we might have sorta… already  _ been _ to an alternate universe?” 

“You  _ what _ .” 

Pidge mutters something off to the side about small minds and ‘w’-words. 

Hunk perked up, “Oh yeah! There was another you there!” The Yellow paladin hummed mid-sentence, “Or, well, sort of another you. N-not a clone!” he hastens to reassure, “I’m pretty sure he was European? Like, super-white. Yodeling and everything! His name was Sven? He was working with Slav, which was just  _ weird _ considering the pair of you mix like oil and water here, for a rebel group called, get this,” He paused and grinned at Keith, “the ‘Guns of Gamora’.” 

Keith seemed a little preoccupied with picturing Shiro yodeling, shoulders shaking with restrained laughter. Shiro goes to cross his arms and scowls as his remaining limb hovered oddly in front his his chest - no other arm present to cross over. Pidge and Keith both sputter with laughter at the look on the eldest’s face before paling. 

Shiro did his best not to sigh. He’d lived this once already - a few more awkward silences and short-lived laughs wouldn’t bring him low. He’d never quite mustered the courage to try and detach his galran ‘prosthetic’ but he was sure he’d get a say in the new one. Literally being able to lend someone his hand ought to go a long way towards breaking the ice. At the very least it might convince everyone to let it well enough alone.

He ignores their slightly panicked noises and aims a kick at Keith’s ankles, foot impacting against his ward (former ward’s? He wasn’t sure if either of them were still legally alive back on Earth. He had a feeling “allowing the child in your care to become a rebel leader in an intergalactic war” probably wasn’t smiled upon by the court system either way.) The newly confirmed Black Paladin hops away, grumbling. 

Shiro turns back to Pidge and Hunk, “What lead you to,” he waved his one hand, taking the distraction it presented to plant the point of his toes into the flesh of Keith’s achilles as the other lined up a kick, “the multiverse?”

She lifted her laptop pointedly. 

“I saved the data we got from that trip. The energy signatures are nearly identical.”

“Only nearly?” Shiro asked kindly.

She scowled, “Yeah but given the number of possible universes an exact match seems unlikely.”

Hunk nodded in agreement, “That’d sort of be like lightning striking the same place twice. It’s not impossible, but it’s pretty unlikely.” 

Shiro nodded gamely, kicking again at Keith as the other started to look like he was about to protest. Keith muttered under his breath and kicked back. 

“So!” Romelle started brightly, “What was the other... world... like?” About halfway through her face started to twist, voice pitching as her own question registered as something no sane person had an answer for. 

Hunk turned to the altean, ignoring for a moment the strange kick-fight happening between two of the three leaders of Voltron, “Oh man, you know how Lotor was lying to your people and harvesting them like batteries for his secret weapons project?   
Romelle’s face and voice fell flat, “Yes.” 

The sarcastic ‘ _ thanks for the reminder’ _ went unsaid. 

Hunk nodded, already back to tinkering with the machine coming together at their feet, “It was pretty much  _ exactly _ like that.”

Hunk continued on, not noticing the change in Keith and Shiro’s faces as he did. 

“I guess it’s a good thing that Lance didn’t end up there. That world was  _ terrifying _ . I mean, no offense Allura, but alteans are  _ scary _ . It wasn’t enough that you guys have super-strength and magical powers - they had to go and develop  _ mind control _ technology.”

“What?!”

Hunk threw both hands out towards Romelle, “Thank you! That is an appropriate reaction!” he gestured to the concerned but not terribly shocked black paladins, “See? See! Our lives are formed of MADNESS and CHAOS and no one else notices!”

“Hey, I was kidnapped by aliens.” Shiro pointed out, “This isn’t even my original body. If I start freaking out over every little alternate reality I’ll never make it out of bed.”

“Fair point.” Hunk conceded after a moment.

The oldest human nodded, glad that was settled. Keith and Romelle scowled at the assembled paladins, not at all satisfied with the brief recap Hunk had given. 

“And these mind controlling Alteans - they just, let you go?”

Allura crossed her arms with a nearly undetectable shudder.

“We discovered a distress signal some time ago. We had thought that perhaps it had been sent by altean survivors, however that... was not the case.” The princess seemed to wilt for a moment before standing tall once more, taking strength from the hand Romelle placed on her elbow. “Instead of survivors, we encountered a reality in which Altea rose to fight against Zarkon’s tyranny.” She pursed her lips, shaking off Romelle’s hand. “No. I apologize, that is not quite right. We… we found an Altea that became consumed with avenging my father’s death. Where I…” 

Keith cut across Allura’s hollow silence, not liking where the princess’ thoughts seemed to be taking her. “Pidge, how exactly does any of this help us get Lance back?”

“We’re going to try and isolate Lance’s frequency and drag him back to our ‘verse. His output frequency,” she paused, took in their faces, and explained, “The energy that makes him  _ Lance _ won’t change even if he’s crossed into another universe. So bringing him back to ours should be as simple as sending an energy wave through a rift and popping him out of place and back here.” 

“And where exactly are you going to get the power?” Shiro asked, eyeing the lions. 

Black, Green and Yellow were all fine, albeit not exactly pristine. Between the Quintessence Field and the not-so-distant battle with Lotor the Lions had looked better. 

Blue was… well, Blue was still slumped on her side from where Yellow had laid her down. She was still in there, or so Allura claimed, but drained and struggling to recoup. 

Red was still unresponsive. 

Pidge winced, just the tiniest amount. 

“I - the Green Lion should be more than sufficient. There’s a lot of plant life on this asteroid so she’s already pulling in a good amount of power from that.”

The smallest paladin turned to look at Allura, “Speaking of, that might be a good way to help the Blue Lion. Maybe getting Blue into a body of water would help?”

The princess nodded, “That doesn’t seem too terrible an idea.” She hesitated, “But for now I’d rather let her rest. Perhaps in a while… if you wouldn’t mind helping us, of course.”

Hunk smiled, “That’d be great, Allura.” 

“...So long as it doesn’t drain the lions.” Keith relented. 

* * *

It takes less time than expected for Pidge to call them back.

They’d managed to get a few of the priorities out of the way; should they contact their allies, continue moving, trying and gauge what happened to the rest of the galaxy with Lotor trapped in the Quintessence Realm?

The answer to each was, after long deliberation,  _ no _ . 

Finding Lance was, presently, a priority. Even with Keith back they were technically down a Paladin of Voltron and out two Lions. 

Sending a signal who knows how far out while they’re effectively sitting ducks just wasn’t a good idea, no matter how secure Pidge could make any potential message. 

When Red,  _ if _ Keith thinks privately, wakes and after Blue recovers then they’ll contact the Blade of Marmora. 

The conversation had started as just Keith, Shiro and Allura, but Hunk had quickly inserted himself and no one, not even a lurking Krolia, had an answer when he demanded to know what they’d tell Lance’s family should they arrive without him. 

It was all made moot by what happened next anyways. 

There’s a loud buzz, an unsettling hum from the bizarre and spindly looking machine Pidge and Hunk cobbled together over the last few days, and a flash of light bright enough that they’re all blinking spots out of their eyes for long minutes after. 

There’s an intake of breath, a few reflexive coughs, and then a familiar voice rings out,

“Ugh, Pidge, what the cheese was that?”

“ **Lance** !”

“Yeah that’s my name don’t wear it ou…t.” the tanned boy trails off, somewhere between confusion and trepidation. He jumps to his feet and takes three large steps away from their group. 

“You are not... quite who I thought you were.” 

His eyes linger over Shiro and Keith, catching for a long moment over Krolia before finally skipping back to Pidge and the machine. 

His mouth falls into a flat line, a sort of subdued scowl that looks nothing like the over-blown drama they’re used to seeing from that face. His shoulders slump along with his spine as he lets out a long sigh. 

“Okay, what’d you do and how long is it gonna take to fix it?”

Pidge opens her mouth. Hunk beats her to it, “Where are your  _ sleeves _ ?!”

That’s… not the question Keith’s mulling over, but he has a point. 

The Lance before them is dressed slightly different from the one they’ve come to know.

The same olive-white jacket is present, but this one is tied around the not-stranger’s waist instead of slung haphazardly on. Same dark jeans - but they’re high-waisted. The combination of the pants and tied up jacket makes the usually subdued difference between Lance’s waist and shoulders inescapably apparent. From there it’s pretty much a short jump to distraction because those broad shoulders are  _ bare _ and who, for fuck’s sake, let Lance leave his room in a  _ sleeveless turtleneck  _ of all things. 

“I flexed and they fell off.” Not-Lance delivered, deadpan. 

The team blinked. The boy before them seemed… serious. But also seriously done with the question, because he lifts his brows and the little half-smile falls right off his face as Hunk opens his mouth to ask again. The yellow paladin’s mouth closes with a ‘click’. Which was fair given the bland yet reproachful look the Lance was giving him. (The ‘neutral face of displeasure’ Adam might have called it).

Shiro recovered first. “So... I’m sure you’re-”

“What’s with the color swap?” 

The Lance’s finger bounced between Shiro and Keith, the latter nearly going cross eyed as his attention riveted on the fingerless gloves this Lance was sporting. After a moment, the brothers glance at one another, confused. 

The Lance twirls his finger and elaborates, “You know, the hair?” he lowered his hand to brace against his hip as the rest of the crew turn to stare at him. Shiro reaches up and takes a bit of his blanched hair self consciously between his fingers as Keith’s shoulders slump in an exasperated sigh. 

It’s definitely a Lance. Five seconds in their universe and the guy already has a problem with his hair. Why did _ that  _ have to be a universal constant? There was nothing wrong with his hair!

The Lance’s eyes rove from face to face, ignorant of Keith’s internal musings, before finally returning to the black paladins. He narrows his eyes at the taller, almost squinting. 

“Wh- are you Japanese? I thought you and Sven were like-”

“Oh my gosh, Lance, you can’t just ask people why they’re not white!” 

The boy ignores Hunk’s knee-jerk outcry and the looks everyone slants at the yellow paladin.

“Where is he anyway?”

“Who?”

Lance tugs on one glove, _ and what the hell - they look a lot like the pair Keith lost with the Castle ship, _ “Sven.” 

Well, he’s got Keith dead to rights with that one. 

“Uh… He’s not-”

Allura jumps in, bless her heart, “He’s off on a mission! With the,” She stalls for a moment as the others mouth incomprehensibly behind the Lance’s back, “the Guns.”

Lance blinks. “The who?”

Keith leans around the Lance to yell, “Pidge! How long is he gonna be here for?”

She looks up from her typing to scan the screens in her makeshift camp, “The portal needed more energy than I thought, it’s possible he could-”

There was a flash of light.

The paladins yell and everyone scatters as a rift cracked open the air above them. 

Hunk bolts for the Yellow Lion, “I’m on it, I’m on it!”

The Lance, Keith notes from behind Shiro and Krolia’s simultaneously raised arms, has herded  Romelle and Allura back towards Pidge. His eyes seem fixed on the fracture above them even as the Yellow Lion made swift work of the seeping rift. 

Krolia slowly lowers her arm. She seems a little flustered, to Keith’s eye, as if she hadn’t quite meant to, well, ‘mom-arm’ him at the first flush of danger. Shiro, he knew, was unrepentant. Maybe even a little smug that he’d effectively beaten Krolia to it. Either way, he ducked his head and avoided their gazes as each made excuses to lower their arms and moved away. 

Keith peered up, noting that this rift, at least, seemed to be closing down without a fight. He turns away from the sky to find the Lance inches from his face. He wonders how he didn’t feel him approach, why even now he doesn’t start or flinch. Blue eyes hold his own, deep and serious in a way Keith has only rarely seen. 

“You sure you don't want to keep me around? Just until you find your own.”

The offer is candid, easily offered and quick enough to jostle an honest response out of Keith before he can really think it through. 

“You want to- I mean, Allura works with Blue already and…” He trails off, suddenly, inexplicably, sure that piloting Red wouldn’t be an issue for this Lance. That wherever he was from, he may have never known it any other way. He doesn't know how he knows that. The easy smiles, maybe. The easy  _ trust _ . 

Keith’s throat closed over the realization. 

“We’re close, aren't we? In your world.” 

The Lance,  _ some other Keith’s right hand _ , smiles at him. Open and guileless, with none of the vitriol he knows so well from his own. It changes Lance’s whole face, makes the almost lazy boy come to life in a way nothing, not even being ripped out of his own world, has thus far. 

“Of course,” He says it easily. 

Like a well-worn fact. Smoothed with time and use until it slips smoothly off his tongue, “have been since the Garrison. You know, ‘ _ Lance and Keith’ _ -” He raised expressive hands, fingers splayed as though he were talking about some sort of movie headline, “-the officers always joked they’d need to set up two pilot chairs for the next exploration mission.” 

Something familiar, old and sharp but dulled by affection, twinkles in those too-close blue eyes. “You might have beaten me out in the simulators, Samurai, but you’d have flunked right out of com-sci without- hey!”

The shove is reflexive, a soft tap against the other’s shoulder that sends him into contagious laughter that only chokes Keith’s dry throat. 

_ Since the Garrison _ . 

_ You would have flunked right out. _

_ Two pilots sent.  _

**_-_ ** _ You know, ‘Lance and Keith, neck and neck’   _ **_-_ **

“I’m not-” He swallows. Tries again. “Why would you-?”

Lance’s shoulders ease, giggles smoothing back into easy breath. 

“Because you’re  _ Keith _ . Maybe not the one I know but…” There’s that smile again, soft and knowing and-  _ still talking, Kogane, focus!- _ “...still a Keith, anyways.” 

A low whistle cuts right through the heat burning him. 

“Are you telling me we could have had a Lance with actual fashion sense  _ and _ a total lack of emotional constipation?”

He doesn’t know what his face looks like, but it makes the boy standing next to him duck his head with a muffled snicker.

“Yikes!” Pidge, however, backpedalled away, arms waving “Okay, okay, nevermind then! Sheesh, put the angry eyes away!”  

There was a long pause, with some muttering from Pidge as she tried and failed to reconnect the still smoking bits of machinery to the ineffable power source, before Romelle, of all people, pitched in her own two cents. Gold eyes roved over the still-close form of the sleeveless paladin. “Are you  _ sure _ we can’t keep this one?”

That brought an outright chuckle out of the startled Lance. Blue eyes shone slightly up at Keith, amused and a little perplexed all at once. The ‘visitor’ opened his mouth, white teeth and pink tongue distractingly  _ there _ , but was cut off as Pidge sighed. 

“Look, the portal didn’t have  _ that _ much oomph to it. Odds are it’ll fade soon and just,” they gestured violently with their hands, “snap him back to his proper place.”

Keith looked up, “...So why aren’t we waiting for that to happen to our Lance?”

He snarled at Hunk, silencing the other’s teasing mutter; “Oh, it’s ‘our Lance’ huh?” before that could progress any further.  

Pidge rolled her shoulders,  “Well for one, we don’t know how much energy each of those rifts are generating. They’re not all consistent anyways but I’d bet you even the smaller ones are putting out a magnitude more power than our device. The one just before Lance took down  _ Blue _ , remember?”

Hunk winced, doing his best to not look over at the still soot-scored lion. 

“Yeah.” Then, slightly less dry, “Even if the limit theory holds true, there’s no telling how long it would be in Lance’s case.” Pidge worried at a loose wire, fingers rubbing over the casing. She looked tired, Keith realized. Pidge not sleeping wasn’t terribly uncommon but it was usually hard to pick out. She was built more like he was, he figured. Able to go a lot longer on less than most and typically disoriented when they got more than just a few snatched hours. This, though, was different. It was probably, he decided as she continued to stall, important. But what exactly was wearing her thin was anyone’s guess. (The fact that she didn’t have all the answers? Residual exhaustion from the battle with Lotor? Being so close to seeing her family again? There was a lot going on.) 

“For another, I’m not sure that it’ll just… rubberband him.”

“You just said-”

“I mean, yeah,  _ eventually _ \- but probably not the first thing that’ll happen.” 

Keith crossed his arms and traded a glance with a confused looking Hunk. Well. At least he wasn’t alone. Pidge sighed and waved an irritated hand at their combined stares. 

“He’s literally out of sync with everything in this universe. Not as far out of sync as he could be… but enough that the resonance could, possibly, uh, damage him?”

The implications hit harder than Allura in a foul mood. 

“You mean, if we don’t find and extract Lance from whatever universe he’s in there’s a chance he’ll  _ die _ ?” 

“I’m hoping  _ not _ but…” Pidge shook the image out of her head. “Look the other reason to do it this way is that we have no way of knowing if he even stayed in his armor. Portalling him out to us means we’ll  _ know _ where he’ll return.”

Hunk dropped a large hand on Pidge’s bouncing knee. 

“Pidge,” he started solemnly, “You’re least reassuring person I know.” 

She let out an offended squawk, “What!?”

Hunk chewed the inside of his cheek. “Dude, you just told me there’s a chance Lance could end up some place that  _ isn’t _ planetside.” 

“Well, I mean-” She spluttered for a moment. 

Hunk continued on, merciless in his anxiety fueled hypothesis. “So like, are you telling me he could be stuck floating around in space? In an alternate universe?”

“I mean- we’d be there. The other ‘us’. We wouldn’t let him…” She trailed off, brain churning through options.

“Yeah, but like, how much air do you think he has? Had? It’s been a few hours - is time linear there? Like, are they moving as fast as we are or-”

“Hunk,”

“But like, what if he-”

“ _ Hunk _ ,”

“-oh my gosh, we need to get Slav. He’s the only one who-”

“HUNK!”

The yellow paladin’s head snapped up, everyone and the Lance staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Dude.” Their not-friend said with feeling. 

Hunk winced, “Sorry.” 

Not-their-Lance smiled at him, crooked and familiar and reassuring. “It’s fine.” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and cast his eye lazily across the pile of still cooling machinery. “I get it. It’s fine, buddy.” 

He glances over at Pidge, “Any chance you can turn that thing back on before I uh,” he twirled his fingers in the air apparently unwilling to give voice to the possibility that he might be molecularly torn to shreds at any moment. Keith didn’t blame him.

Pidge shrugs, “That’s what I’m working on.” 

Lance bobbed his head, “Cool cool cool cool.” before ambling back over to Keith. 

“Soooo… what’s with the dog?” 

Keith groaned, “He’s a wolf.” and launches into a brief recapitulation of his struggles as a first time pet owner. He misses the small smile growing on Lance’s face. 

* * *

“So,” the Lance started, plucking idly at his hanging jacket sleeves, “Thanks for having me, I guess?”

Pidge snickers which sets Lance off into an out right bark of laughter. “Hey! C’mon, there’s no rule book for this one! I don’t know what to say!”

“It was nice to meet you?”

“Thanks for not letting Keith stab you?”

“So long and thanks for all the fish?” Hunk offered with a grin. 

Lance scoffs but smiles, sweet and real and maybe just a touch less familiar than it ought to be. 

“It was nice to meet all of you. Stay safe, alright?”

The portal flickers, white-hot. 

He smiles at Keith, just a little sad. “Stay sharp, samurai.”

And then he’s gone. 

* * *

Hunk continues to stare at where the portal once hovered for a long moment, doing his best to not look back at Keith (not after the first yellow backlit glare). “Well that… wasn’t right.”

Pidge scowls at her laptop, “I don’t know  _ why _ that didn’t work though…”

She mutters something about energy density and probability. Keith sighs and stares at the two inactive Lions, ignoring the significant glances everyone was exchanging where they thought he couldn’t see. 

It didn’t matter. It didn’t  _ count _ . It wasn’t their Lance, after all, so what did it matter what he was like in another world? All that mattered was,

“How long until we can open another portal?”

“It’ll take about three days- quintents- to charge.” Hunk corrects quickly. 

“We’ll try again then.” Keith nods decisively, “Until then, I’ll take Black and move Blue to the deepest spring we can find. Let’s see if that helps.” 

“And the Red Lion?” Allura asks, visibly biting back her other questions, as she heads towards Blue. 

Keith follows her gaze to the sprawling husk that was once his Lion. He shakes his head.

“Let’s focus on Blue first.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :: Beta-Design Lance ::
> 
> +Is more chill than Canon!Lance
> 
> +“I flexed at the sleeves fell off” delivered in a perfect deadpan when asked about his shirt. (Like he’s both serious and seriously done with this question)
> 
> +Asks where Sven is and then calmly accepts that he’s not around (which… what)
> 
> +Wants to know why Keith dyed his hair (claims it’s as “white as Shiro” and does finger guns until someone calls him on his terrible pun [Shiro means ‘white’ and also Shiro has white hair plus the whole Sven/Shiro mix up… ‘white’ also doubling down on Sven being Scandinavian or Swedish or something]).
> 
> +Literally that’s it. It’s sort of a disappointing venture.
> 
> +Hints of the original Klance script that got thrown out.
> 
> +Well that… wasn’t right.
> 
> \---- ------ -----  
> Hey guys! It's finally here! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and the ones to come. I have 11 more of them planned out - but feel free to leave your own suggestions in the comments! ;)


	2. 80's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 80’s Voltron Lance gets dragged into this reality. No one's really happy about it.

“Wow. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“Shut up.”

“No, really, I mean- I think you managed to snag a fugitive from Earth’s ancient era.”

“Shut up!”

“Hey, hey, Lance, right?”

The man lying on the dirt before them made no effort to get up from where the portal had spat him. Hunk dropped into a crouch and began to actually poke the guy. 

“Lance, dude, the 1980’s called; they want their everything back.” 

It was, Keith decided, a unique way of dealing with the disappointing sting of yet another failure. Not one he’d expected of Hunk but, well, he eyed the man lying on the ground, he did have a point. 

Glee entered Hunk’s bitter commentary, “Ohhhhh, Keith! Keith, man, you’ve got to see this. Is that what I think it is?” Broad fingers jabbed at the still prone Lance’s hair and, well, what do you know?

Hunk grinned the grin of a man who’d been handed days worth of vengeance. “Is that a mullet?” 

For some reason that, of all things, got a rise out of the Lance in the dirt. He didn’t sit up but he did lazily bat at Hunk’s pointing fingers. 

“Oh f-” The word trailed off into a long frictive noise as a blue eye clocked sight of Pidge’s small form crouched by the once again smoking machine. “-uust, lay off the hair, baby-Hunk.” 

Shiro peered down at the notably older Lance. “Are you going to get up?”

Their, sadly invited, guest seemed to consider for a moment, “...No.” 

He swats half heartedly at Shiro’s boots when the other didn’t move away. 

“Seriously, Sven, go away. I’ll get up when I want to.”

Shiro rocked backwards, sharp gaze boring into the guiltily bowed heads of the Green and Yellow paladins.

There’s a pause as the Lance lazily heaved in deep breaths. Blue eyes, darker and somehow even smaller than their Lance’s, narrowed at Keith.

“Akira you lazy f-” he once again censored himself at the last second, eyes sliding across all three girls and Coran “-ugh, c’mon man, are you gonna help me or what?”

It takes an impressively long time for Keith to realize the Lance is talking to him.

“That’s not my name.”

The grown man lying in the dirt sat partly up, raked his eyes up and down Keith, let out a dramatic groan, and flopped back to the ground, limbs all akimbo. 

“I hate this reality.”

* * *

“Wait.” The older Lance held up a hand imperiously before he started pointing at people, “So, you’re not Sven -” 

“Nope.”

“- and you’re not Akira,”

“Not even close.”

“- then who the hell are you people?

“Well I’m Hunk -”

“Oh, okay, so I got that right! I see no one wants to talk about that.” 

“- and that’s Pidge!”

“Pidge is a _GIRL?!”_

 _“_ Oh boy. Here we go again.”

* * *

“Your Allura is blonde?”

The thirty-something Lance peered at her from the corner of his eye, “Among other things, yeah.” 

Allura put her hands on her hips, “What, precisely, does that mean?”

The Lance shrugged, “Nothing, forgetta ‘bout it. Hey,” He snapped his fingers, “You fly Blue at least, yeah?”

“Yes, though,” she grimaced, “Our reality’s Lance was my predecessor.”

“What.”

“I take it this is not the case in your world?”

“No, and frankly it’s really weird to think about.”

“You think that’s weird, wait till we get to the mice.”

“ _Why_ are there _mice_ loose on the castleship?!” 

“Yeeeeeah, about the ship…”

* * *

“Lance get off the ground.”

“My entire life is a lie and there is no God here.”

"Don't be so dramatic."

"Hell might’ve been better than this.” 

“That’s nice buddy but we need to put this cable here to enhance the-”

“Oh for f-f-flips sake!” 

“Wow. That’s really grating on you, huh?”

“Shut _up_ , you sassy lost child. No one asked you.”

* * *

“Middle name?”

“No! No part of my name is Akira! Just let it go!”

“Well _excuse_ me! I just don’t see how you go from a name like _Akira_ to freakin’ ‘ _Keith_ ’!”

“What’s wrong with my name?!”

“Pfft what _isn’t_?!”

* * *

“Bad news guys-”

“Let me guess, the portals not ready.”

Pidge shrugged as Keith groaned in defeat, “Pretty much.”

Lance hummed, “Not enough ambient quintessence to support a sustained flow, huh?” 

Four heads snapped incredulously around, the stranger continued on, oblivious. “And without a lion hot to trot you’re stuck up a creek without a paddle, right?” He whistled, “That’s rough. Still, you’re doing pretty well with the resonance you’ve got. That storm isn’t doing youse guys any favors, though.”

Pidge’s mouth snapped shut. Lance raised an eyebrow. “What?”  
Keith scowled, defensive. “How’d you know we’re down a lion?”

“Can’t sense Red. I mean, like, at all. Not even a peep. Figure either this ‘verse is wacked harder than I thought or something’s wrong.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder towards the water formations, “Plus I can _see_ the Blue Lion from here and she looks pretty rough. Hard to bring down a leg of Voltron so,” he trailed off with a casual shrug. 

“What was that about quintessence?”

Lance scoffed, “Oh please, like it’s hard. Garrison never woulda hired me if I couldn’t work somethin’ like that out.”

“The who did _what_ now?”

* * *

“So… you work for the Garrison.”

Lance leaned back on his palms, considering Shiro as Hunk and Pidge tore back into the now scattered machine, intent to filter out the radiation Lance had mentioned in ensuing grilling. “That doesn’t sound like a question.” 

“Just, I mean, Voltron is stationed on Earth?”  
  
“Uh, yeah? Where else would it be?”  
  
Hunk waved an arm around expressively, which was relatively concerning given the green-hued blowtorch in his grasp. “I don’t know, space?” 

“Well, sure, we’re out there most of the time but Earth is a central hub. No reason not to be there, really.”

“What do you even _do_ for the Garrison?” Pidge snarked.

“I’m a teacher.” 

The torch clattered to the, thankfully inflammable, ground. 

“You what.”

* * *

“Okay, _why_ is this so hard for you guys to understand? You literally ripped me out of a classroom and dropped my ass into a different universe. The ‘classroom’ bit of that sentence shouldn’t be the weird part!”

“Yeah but… You _teach_?!”

Lance threw his hands in the air. “Oh my God!”

“What do you _do_?!”

Lance huffed a sigh, almost sneering. “My kids tackle xenolinguistics, fighter-targeting and tactical analysis.”  
  
Shiro’s eyebrows were slowly becoming one with his hairline. His fingers pressed against his mouth. “That’s… eclectic.”

The 30 something year old shrugged. “Play to your strengths. Akira gets them for the majority of the simulations, squad runs and,” He smirked, “I’m pretty sure they’re tryna strong arm him into taking on a protege. Dunno how well that’s going for them.” 

He pointed lazily over at Hunk, who seemed to be trying to wrap his brain around both Lance _and_ alternate Keith as Garrison teachers.

“Hunk-a-lunk does a few engineering things, nothing I really follow but the kids sure love him.”

He cut a look at Pidge, “You’d have to stand on a desk or something to even _see_ the kids so you pretty much stick around the labora- hey!” He chucked the hurled gear back, “Throw something again and I’ll keep it!”

“Oh my god, you _are_ a teacher.”

Lance’s face and voice fell flat into exaggerated exasperation. “So help me child, I will turn this giant space lion around.”

Shiro gave up, shoulders shaking as he fell apart into poorly muffled laughter. 

* * *

“You doin’ alright here, chief?”

Keith flinched, full-bodied and violent.

“Hoh, hey, woah!” Lance took a step back, hands raised in the universal sign for ‘surrender’, dislodging the sword from under his chin. “Easy there! It’s just a question.”  
Keith grumbled something about sneaking, cheeks flaring red for the half second it took his blade to deactivate. 

Lance exhaled, a raised hand dropping to rub at his neck, apparently _also_ a universal gesture, at least among Lances, and crossed his arms. “Lookin’ a little tense is all.” 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah huh.”

“On my own.”

“Yeah huh.”

Keith snarls, patience officially run dry. “I don’t need you looking after me!”

Lance doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t rock back on his heels or shift as Keith ends up leaning into his space and it’s _weird_ , having to look up again. He’d barely gotten used to looking down to find Lance’s eyes and now -

“Doesn’t mean I can’t do it.”

\- Keith blinks, backing up a little as he realizes how close they’re standing. 

“What?”

The thirty-something year old shrugged, “Doesn’t mean I _can’t_ look after you. Just ‘cause you don’t _need it_ doesn’t mean it’s not _needed_.”

“...that doesn’t make any sense.”

The Lance shrugged. “Not everything in life has to. Trying to live like every little thing has meaning is a pretty sure-fire way to drive yourself crazy. You’ve gotta take some of it in stride.”

Keith sneered, “Is that what _you_ do? ”

The Lance groaned under his breath, Keith’s ears pricking to pick up the low noise. “ _Just like him. Akira, when I get back I swear to fuc-”_

“I’M NOT AKIRA!”

They both flinched at the outburst. The Lance's eyes soften, “I know that…”

Keith glared, unappeased. “I’m not your ‘rival’. This isn’t your world. You don’t know _me_.” He didn’t let the stranger start talking. “And you know what?” 

Keith turned on his heel and strode back towards the camp, ignoring the older’s cursing and calls to come back.

This isn’t _their_ Lance. Their’s is who-knows-where, launched how many iterations away doing something _stupid_ and _uncessary_ to try and impress Allura. Rage bubbles, hot and familiar, in his stomach. They’d been moving slowly before but now they were _stopped_. Trapped here on this deserted rock with no way of knowing what was going on in the world around them as the residual storm generated interference. Lance scrambles in the dust behind him, persistently calling after him.

He plants his foot on the broadest piece of tech in Hunk and Pidge’s nest, and kicked it over. The rectangular metal box crashed to the ground with a spectacular noise, Yellow and Green paladins jumping half out of their skin at the cacophony. 

“Keith!’

Something inside Keith pangs as he runs through the logical, _marmoran_ something hisses, options left to Voltron. 

“We don’t have time for this.”

The Lance’s thick brows lowered, a considering look crossing his face. It made him look his age. Hunk flinched. “Keith…”  
“We have five paladins. If Pidge is right,” And the small wave of his hand indicated he was taking that to be a given, “then he’ll end up back in our universe sooner rather than later.” 

Keith’s jaw clenched, grinding the words out. “The universe needs Voltron. Lotor and Zarkon might be gone but the empire didn’t just dissolve. We have no idea who is still out there!”

“Keith! Lance could be _anywhere_. We can’t just leave him-”

“-he’s a paladin of Voltron! Leaving him behind would be-”

“After all you’ve been through, Number Four, I’m shocked that you would-”

“Enough!”

Keith ducked his head, grimacing as he _felt_ his throat ache from that roar like shout. He presses his eyes closed against the sudden sting, unsure if it was just the absolutely shit decision he was forced to make here or a true pain.

Shiro crossed his arm across his torso, visibly uncomfortable. “I can understand where you’re coming from, Keith. But it doesn’t feel right to abandon Lance like this.” He held his palm up to stall Keith and Pidge’s objections. “I understand that there’s a strong possibility that he’ll return to this universe on his own but we can’t be sure of that.” Shiro’s brows lowered, “Keith, you didn’t stop looking for me. Even after I was declared KIA, you kept searching.”

He stopped talking and stared Keith down, expecting an answer. Keith’s eyes cast away, his hand buried in Kosmo’s thick ruff as the wolf leaned against his knees. “That’s- Shiro that’s _different_. You’re like a brother to me. I could never just- ignore the fact that you could still be out there!” 

Keith cast a glance over at Pidge as Shiro’s expression slid into confusion. It was clear he didn’t, couldn’t maybe, understand the differences at play here. But he knew Pidge could. With her family stuck somewhere between this mess and Earth she understood exactly how critical it was that Voltron remain in play. 

She bit her cheek. “The Blue Lion’s almost recharged. I think I’ve just about worked out how to amp up the machine and, yeah,” she cut a glance over at Hunk, “it’s portable.”

She fiddled with a screwdriver, unable to meet Shiro’s eyes. “Look, Shiro, I know what it sounds like but-

“But nothing, Pidge!”

She raised her voice, pressing Hunk’s outcry back. “But we have got to know what’s out there! If Lotor made his way out of the quintessence field the universe could be in massive trouble. Beyond that if he _didn’t_ make his way out we need to move, fast, before the Galra can fill that power vacuum!”

Allura pressed her palm over her heart and grimaced, protests falling silent. Hunk, shocked silent, gazed at the princess with betrayal painted across his face.

“Allura…”

She looked away.

Pidge pushed the advantage, “We gain nothing by sitting here. I’m not saying we have to stop- I mean, hello, I made that machine for a reason, but the sooner we know what’s going on the better.” She nudged her glasses back up, “And to do that we need to get in range of _something_.” 

Shiro exchanged a glance over Keith’s head. 

“Akir- ah, hell, Keith-”

The black paladin jerked his shoulder away from the Lance’s encroaching hand. “Get him out of here and get Blue moving. We’re going.” 

He ignored the disappointed looks Shiro and the older Lance shot him. 

It didn’t matter. That wasn’t _their_ Lance. 

(The ache of it, that palpable disappointment, didn’t fade.)

* * *

The portal opened. Flickery and a little less wide than before, but stable according to both Lance and Pidge’s estimates. Hunk shouted, the first he’d spoken since Keith’s ultimatum, as Lance straightened his leather jacket and strode towards the portal. 

“What’s the weirdest thing here!”

“This place?” Lance didn’t even blink, “Not-Akira’s hair. Grow it out already, dude, you can’t pull off a mullet.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 80’s Voltron Lance   
>  +Clearly has a mullet and no one can handle the irony  
> +Shiro vs Sven round 2  
> +Akira vs Keith round 1  
> +Allura in the 80’s was blonde, white, and lacked the elf ears  
> +Pidge was actually a boy in the 80’s  
> +Commander Kogane was a thing and, yes, Lance was a teacher at the Garrison  
> +Lance and Akira were close in school and work closely as Head and Right Hand of Voltron. 80’s Lance knows his Akira pretty damn well.  
>  +It deeply unsettles Keith  
> +80’s show quotes
> 
>  
> 
> Not as whimsical as I wanted it to be but... Keith has been with the Blades of Marmora longer than he was with Voltron at this point. I imagine the ‘mission first’ directive is pretty drilled into him.   
> I ship my little heart out here but I want to try and keep them as In Character as possible when I can. Keith sitting around on an asteroid post-battle when they know nothing of what's going on in the universe? Not really IC.


	3. Half Galran Lance, raised by the BoM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is gonna be sort of like an actual story now 'cause I just couldn't keep it totally whimsical. Damnit, Keith!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-dah!

In retrospect, it was a tactical error to ostracize the guy who made, distributed and generally just had complete and total possession over their larder. 

Keith’s irritated sigh was slightly drowned out by his growling stomach. Krolia shot him an unimpressed look. 

He flicked on the comms.

“Hunk.”

No reply.

“ _Hunk._ ”

The silence continued.

Pidge’s voice crackled through the comms. Guilt pitching their comment into a higher range than usual. “Maybe we should-”

“Hunk this is ridiculous. Stop acting so childish and-”

“Me?! I’m acting chil-” The yellow paladin cut himself off mid word, the vitriol leaking off his tone enough to take them all aback. “Well I’m _sorry_ that I’m the only one here who doesn’t get to freak out over losing their best friend! Shiro goes missing and you nearly get us all blown up! Pidge’s brother disappears and she hacks into the Garrison! But no-”

“ _Best friend?_ ” Keith snarls back. “From what I’ve heard you haven’t spent time with Lance in _weeks_.”

The pained, horrified noise that strangles out of Hunk should be a warning. The quiet breath Pidge takes a sign that, as usual, he’s hit a weaker point than he’s meant to. He’s too caught up in the rage, the frustration, to notice. 

 _Nothing_ is as he remembers it. 

Not the team, not the dynamic, not his relationship with Shiro-

“Some friend-”

“Enough!”

Everyone flinches. Shiro pulls his fingers off the bridge of his nose. “We are all stressed. We are all frustrated and upset and, yes,” He stares pointedly at Hunk, “hungry.” 

The Yellow Paladin slouches in his seat. 

“Allura.” The princess straightens up and looks over at her comm. “Pick a place and we’ll land.” Shiro’s hand reaches over and closes off communications. 

Keith keeps his gaze riveted on the black expanse before him. He doesn’t need to actually see the disappointed look he can feel boring into the side of his head. Three years ago, this wouldn’t have happened. 

“That wasn’t appropriate, Keith. I know it’s been a rough couple of days but you’re the black paladin now.” Shiro’s tone softened, the same way it had when Keith came back to the apartment scraped up or with another scribbled report. “It’s difficult, but I know you can do this.”

Three years ago, this wouldn’t have happened. 

Not because Shiro stepping in wouldn’t have been needed or necessary, shit he probably would have said worse three years back, but because he wouldn’t have been in a position for it even start in the first place. 

He knew Shiro wasn’t ready to get back in Black. A part of him knew, deep down, that Shiro probably wouldn’t ever _be_ ready. That his brother probably never planned to retake his mantle at all. 

And that was- that was _fine_. If anyone deserved a break, it was Shiro. 

But why the hell did that leave _him_ in charge?

Because several tons of metal and sentient weaponry decided he was worthy to fly it? How did _that_ make sense?

Shiro taking command had been a logical, almost foregone, conclusion. Hell, Lance had known that before they’d even learned there were four other Lions out there. Shiro was the ranking officer. He’d lead classes, seminars, exercises and actual missions beyond all of that. He had the experience, the charisma and, most critically to Keith, the _patience_ to deal with the crushing burdens leadership entailed.

He wasn’t a diplomat. He wasn’t charismatic and he certainly, for all his repeating of Shiro’s mantra, wasn’t _patient_. 

Sure Allura was piloting Blue now, but in the day to day things she still knew more about Voltron and the rest of the galaxy more than any of them save Coran. Why wasn’t she still in charge? 

...Why couldn’t Shiro just lead from outside the Black Lion?

He signed up to be a _fighter pilot_. He wasn’t communications and despite Shiro’s best efforts he hadn’t been dual command track either.

They’d give him missions, he’d fly them.

They’d give him targets, he’d hit them.

That was the deal. 

Not for the first time, Keith wondered what it’d been like for the original paladins. Had they all followed Zarkon because of the Black Lion or had it been something… more?

* * *

“And three, two, one!”

The portal opened. 

A loud clang of scraping metal rang across the field, covering Pidge’s yelp as she scrambled clear.

Keith snarled, pressing his blade and weight forward against the sudden attack. He bent his knees, toes digging into the earth as he was pressed back. Purple eyes widened in shock at the all too familiar mask staring quizzically back at him. His eyes flickered to the blade locked with his own, the glowing letter exactly where he expected it. The masked head tilted to look at his blade in turn and Keith was pressed suddenly backwards, as though the other were surprised. 

“Woah!”

Before staggering as the immense force disappeared entirely. 

The dark figure leapt back and away, shock easily read even through the glowing marmoran mask. 

“Keith!”

“We’re fine!”

Shiro stopped about a foot behind him, shoulder raised high. Keith raised one hand in the universal sign for ‘stop’. The other he kept on his still active sword, he wasn’t an idiot. 

“We’re fine.” He repeated. “Right, Lance?”

A hand reached up and tossed back the hood, mask dematerializing in the same motion. Familiar eyes peered at them curiously as two luxite blades reverted to their dagger forms with a shower of sparkles.

“Who the gorravak is ‘Lance’?” 

* * *

“Huh. Well, I guess it’s not the _weirdest_ thing I’ve seen!” 

“You’re a little too accepting.” 

Hunk swatted a hand in Romelle’s direction, deeming her comment unhelpful. “Ignore her, I mean, this is still pretty weird, right?”

The marmoran geared not-Lance (“‘Lance’ is fine!” “Don’t accept a new name so easily!”) hummed thoughtfully. This one was around the right age, albeit taller than their own. He was, hilariously enough, of height with Keith despite the apparent age difference. Pidge’s toes were still sore from the stomp her off-hand comments garnered so no one had brought it up a second time. 

Pretty much everyone was more than a little stuck on the finer details of this attempt anyways. A marmoran suit, a blade that was more like a broadsword and, as his face split into an excited grin, prominent canines that kept derailing even Shiro from their line of scattered questions made for some pretty distracting features. 

“I guess!” A gloved hand ruffled short ends of puce hair. “I still think it’s cool, though. It’ll make for a great story when I go back.” He looked to the side and muttered, “And boy, am I going to  need one after vanishing on patrol…”

Allura and Hunk smiled, put at ease by his familiar laissez faire attitude. 

“So… wait, how does this work? With your mom being galran and all... How did she get back to Earth so often? Or like, are all of your siblings…” Hunk trailed off, not quite willing to finish his hypothesis of this Lance’s mother and her, uh, recreational choices. 

The Lance, however, just looked confused again. 

He tilted his head to one side, “Earth?” He sounded each vowel out slowly, as if he’d never heard of the place before. “I don’t think I know that planet.”

Apparently because he hadn’t. Shiro and Pidge exchanged worried looks. 

“I mean, navigation isn’t my _best_ subject but- hey, what system is it in? Is it nice?” He continued on before anyone had the chance to answer, “I was born in the Deltarian system. Apparently I showed up off schedule and almost threw off an entire mission!” He laughed, like this was an old joke. “Mom was so mad! Dad was consigned to a break room for a whole movement before she forgave him.”

“So… you were born in space?”

Lance shot a _well, duh_ look at Keith at Hunk’s question - as if asking his fellow hybrid to join in on this strange form of patient confusion he was demonstrating. 

“Yeah. I mean, I _am_ the youngest. Why would you- _Oh._ Ohhh!” Lance laughed and waved a hand. “Mom took dad with her, of course.” 

Keith feels a kick to his stomach. The casual way Lance just said that, like his mother leaving behind her family wasn’t even an option - 

“Or at least that’s what Antok told me. I’ve never met them.” 

And then Lance shrugged. Like he hadn’t just- 

“What are you siblings’ names.” Krolia wouldn’t look at Keith.

Lance perked up, excited in every universe to talk about his family. Keith felt his stomach churn.

“Lisak, Merrko, Lusak, Rakkeal and Verrika!” Lance grinned, absurdly proud at being able to rattle off so many names. He perked up once more, “Oh! And Lisak has two of her own now! Naria and Selok! I think one is in the Tsson Clan too, but I’m not really supposed to know that.” He grinned shly, as if begging permission for them to keep this secret. 

“And why,” Krolia asked, voice slow and sad, “Do you have all their names.” 

Lance, inexplicably, flushed, “It’d be bad if… if… you _know_.” The last part of his sentence practically a whispered hiss. 

Pidge scrunched up her nose, confused. Keith watched Shiro and Coran blanch as he lined up the missing pieces himself. 

The young blade shook his head, “I don’t know why everyone worries about that, though. I think I’ll just be able to _tell_. I mean, they’re _family_ after all.” And then he grinned, wide and innocent and devastatingly ignorant of what the word actually entailed. 

“You don’t-” Keith started and stopped, voice hoarse and vulnerable and aching to know. He pressed on, buoyed by Lance’s openly friendly look. “You don’t know your mother?”

Lance rocked back on his heels, playfully stretching into a backbend before rolling onto his hands. “Well, no. I mean, I’m sure I did, when I was a kit.” Keith caught Hunk’s flinch behind Lance. “But I was given to the Tsson Clan before all my milk-teeth came in.” He shrugged, “It’s better that way. The Blades there are better equipped to handle us. Galran children can be a handful you know.” Lance grinned, sharp and mischievous. “We played the _best_ pranks on the other clans at our base - but only the ones the Wardmaster approved!” he hastened to add the last bit on, glancing warily over at Krolia as though she may scold him at any moment.  

“S-so you grew up in a… with a clan?”

Lance turned on one hand to nod upside-down at Hunk, “Till I was given to Antok, yeah.”

Shiro felt his stomach sink impossibly further. “Given?”

Lance launched himself back into a sitting-crouch. “Yeah. I was real lucky he picked me! He’s been tons of fun to shadow! Kolivan can get a little intense, but Antok says he just has a lot to manage.” Lance peers up at Keith’s pale form from his spot on the ground, “Shouldn’t you know this, though?” He gestured at Krolia, “I mean, you’re-”

“Keith was raised on Earth, with his father and later Shiro.” 

The Lance blinked, but accepted Krolia’s curt statement with a grace their own lacked. 

“Oh,” he said. “I guess that would have been interesting. What is it like for humans then?” 

Allura shard a nervous glance with Keith, who shrugged helplessly, took a bracing breath, “Perhaps you should-” and was saved by Krolia.

“You’ve not shown the proper respect. As Antok’s hidesh-”

Lance interrupted with a whine, “Awww! Come on, this isn’t even a proper den! It’s a bricap if anything!” 

Blue eyes stared pleadingly up at Korlia. She crossed her arms, unmoved. Keith wasn’t surprised. If a young Kosmo, with actual puppy eyes, failed to move his mother then Lance, any Lance, didn’t have a snowball's chance at succeeding. 

“Actually, my boy, this could be considered a gurentok! Why, I remember-”

The ginger altean turned and winked before returning to his long-winded recollection of yet another tale of his great-grandpop. As Coran stroked his mustache, chatting up an increasingly distressed looking Lance, Keith took a second to wonder just how often the older altean messed with the team. He set the concern aside, ears pricking as the conversation came back around _again_ to some sort of ritual disarmament his mother was insisting on. Keith hadn’t thought that Lance, any Lance, would be dangerous but given the sudden string of unpleasant facts that just erupted he can’t argue that safe is better than sorry.

No one expected Lance to pout and produce a small armory from _nowhere_.

Six throwing knives, three small calibre guns, two switch-blades, a collapsible non-marmoran sword, an equally foldable rifle, a string of what looked like hand grenades, that proper marmoran blade (non activated), four garrotes forcibly tugged out of his armor by Krolia, and what looked like a tazer later, Lance was openly pouting and scuffing his boots on the ground. 

Everyone's eyes jump from the pile of weaponry back to the no-more svelte Lance pouting at Krolia and Coran. 

“Is…” Shiro broke off as Krolia slid some sort of pointy rod out from the side of Lance’s bracers and gestured at the apparently _still growing pile_ with his remaining arm, “Is all this _necessary_?” 

Lance looked over and grinned, sharp canines suddenly apparent to all observing him. 

“Well, yeah! You don’t wanna get stuck in a situation where you can’t reach a weaooommmmfff!!”

Krolia pulled her fingers from his mouth with a scowl, what looked like a square razor shining between two of them.

“I should have guessed. Antok was always a worrier.” 

Lance stopped scraping his tongue with his teeth to beam up at her, “Yeah, he’s really nice that way!” He licked his lips, making a little popping sound at the end of the motion. “Oh, hey, where is Antok? Maybe he can write me a note! Pretty hard to argue with yoursel- why are you all looking at me like that?”

* * *

The casual admission of human abduction, the strong implication of child soldiers and the intentional dissolution of families aside, this Lance seemed relatively happy and healthy. 

Which is likely why they all made the mistake about asking after their own counterparts. It was a wonder they hadn’t before, but, to be fair, the other Lances had been more free with their commentary and information than this one. 

Besides, they really needed to get him off the topic of the absolutely dead blade member, if only because it’d depressed Shiro enough that he’d willingly volunteered to help Coran sort the lunch rations just to get away from the conversation. 

“Oh, no, I’ve never met you people before in my life.” Lance paused as the shock hit them and then bowed his head sheepishly towards Krolia. “Well, except for Krolia.”

Hunk raced over, shaking his head hard enough that his headband ties slapped across his cheeks, “You’re not a Paladin?!”

Lance rubbed nervously at a gloved forearm, clearly missing having some sort of weaponry to fiddle with. 

“...there aren’t any paladins. The Lions have been missing for _ages_.” 

“What!”

Lance flinched, shoulders going rigid as Hunk framed them with his large hands. The yellow paladin stopped just shy of shaking the tense halfling. 

“Then who’s battling the empire?!”

Lance, a bit insulted, waved his hands silently over the glowing sigils of his marmoran suit.

“W-well, okay, sure but _other_ than the Blade?” 

“A lot of people, I’m sure, but without- wait a tick!” 

Lance’s hands shot up to grab Hunk’s armored shoulders in turn. His head swiveled around, seemingly taking in everyone’s attire anew. To be fair, only Hunk was dressed in his paladin gear, the rest of them in an odd mix of armor and day clothes. All the same, it looked like the penny had finally dropped and-

“You’re the paladins of Voltron?!”

-Lance had put two and two together to get four. 

* * *

The story came out in fragments. 

“...and, well, now we’re here and _you’re_ here and it’s sort of a mess, really.”

“Oh, wow...” The weirdest part was, he genuinely seemed to mean the awe injected into his voice. It was a reverent tone. Keith shifted his weight, uncomfortable. Hearing it directed towards the lions was one thing but at _them_ … He lifted one of the smaller crates and started back towards the center of their camp, nodding to Shiro as he passed him. Better to have something to do with his hands. 

“That’s amazing. I can’t imagine the sort of good you must be able to do. If the Blade had even half the fire power of just one Lion-”

Shiro reached the group and placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder, “We’re trying our best.” He said humbly, then paused. “You seem pretty enthralled by this-”

“Yeah, of course, the legend of Voltron has always been, I mean,” he stuttered for the first time, eyes casting almost helplessly back towards the resting lions, “I’ve always dreamed…”

Shiro blinked, missing Hunk and Romelle’s frantic gestures. 

“No, sorry, I meant, weren’t _you_ a paladin? Before joining back up with the Blades?”

Lance tripped slightly, nearly overbalancing Shiro with him.

“What? _Me_?” Lance shook his head violently, “No! No, I mean,” He chuckled nervously, “I’ve never been anywhere but with the Blades of Marmora. Don’t know what I’d do or, I mean, _me_? A Paladin?” 

He seemed… incredibly nervous. Almost suspiciously so. Shiro narrowed his eyes. 

Lance squirmed for a long moment before he heaved in a deep breath, gaze averted. “There was this recon mission that went south. Antok got called in to help with an extraction.” He looked up and shook his head, nose wrinkled as if assaulted by a foul smell. “I know, I know, it was _weird_. I’ve never even heard of an extraction mission but that’s what Kolivan called it. We snuck planetside, rewired a few of the drone ships and started causing chaos. Another ship was trying to, I don’t know, pull away from the Inescapable? But, hey, catchy names and all… the tractor beams on that ship aren’t a joke.” Lance forced a laugh, “Hell, I think they could probably pick up Voltron!” He petered off, bracing himself. “I… almost flew right into a drone-ship.” He grimaced, “I don’t - it was just… distracting.”  

Shiro gently clutched the Lance’s shoulder, “What was?”

“I-it wasn’t a voice, not really, it was just…” Lance trailed off, staring off into the distance. Into the direction of the inactive Red Lion. His voice smoothed over as he picked back up, a hushed quality to it. “It’s like, when you’re planetside and a sun’s up and you can _feel_ yourself getting warm. Your hair heats and then your cheeks and it sinks down, into you, until you can feel it in your bones.” Lance worried his lower lip with sharp teeth. “More than that, though. Like, the _sun_ is in your chest and it’s burning but it’s not, not-”

“It doesn’t hurt.” 

Lance’s head snapped up, eyes locking with Keith’s for a heartbeat. Keith pursed his lips, uncomfortable, before walking away once more with a new box. Shiro watched him go, but squeezed Lance’s shoulder. He sagged a bit into the firm grip. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it… it didn’t hurt. It just-” Lance shook his head, frustrated before letting out a  bark of self depreciating laughter, “Antok hasn’t let me out of his sight since. I think I scared him.” He pulled softly away from Shiro’s grip. “We lose so many in the field he just… He’s kept me close to base since.”

Lance shrugged, embarrassed, “Battle fatigue, they think. I haven’t… haven’t told them any different.” 

Something niggled at Shiro’s mind, the ship’s name and Keith’s reaction pinging something for him. 

“The… Inescapable, was it?” He waited for Lance to nod, “Do you know who’s ship that was?”

Keith didn’t look back, Lance’s words already more than enough confirmation for his own suspicions. 

Lance crossed his arms over his ribs, “Sendak’s.” 

* * *

“You think that was the R-Red Lion? In my head?”

Shiro tactfully ignored the stutter and cast another look at Keith, who avoided his gaze in favor of trudging back for yet another crate. 

Allura smiled, “Yes. Given Keith’s reaction and our Lance’s ability to pilot the Red Lion, it is a strong possibility they were what you were sensing.” 

“Couple that with Keith’s sensitivity to quintessence-”

Shiro looked over at Pidge, askanced, “What sensitivity to quintessence?”

They waggled a finger in their ear, “Uh, hello? He could sense the Blue Lion back on Earth? He could feel the corrupted quintessence those druids were messing with the day we lost Allura from like, a mile out?” Pidge shrugged as everyone stared in surprised consideration. 

“I’m just saying! I think it has something to do with his being part galra and,” they paused to wave their hands at Lance, “given the facts here that might also be at play in his universe.” 

Lance, for his part, just looked confused. “Quintessence?” 

“Yes, it’s-” 

He cut the princess off, “-stuff the galran empire uses to fuel most of their ships and experiments. Yeah.”

Allura scowled, unused to being interrupted. Lance shrugged, “I’ve been around a lot of the stuff before and I don’t think I’ve so much as sneezed. Also,” He grinned, a little sheepish, “I can confirm that I don’t have a sense for the stuff. Had to retrieve some for a mission once and let me tell you I have never gotten so lost in my _life_.” 

Hunk chuckled as Allura and Pidge’s faces fell. “Well there goes that theory.”

Keith set the crate down as softly as he could. “Is that the last of them?”

“Not quite, I think there’s a few extra power cells we’re gonna need to send him b-” 

“I guess I’m just wondering… what makes you all so sure that I’m a paladin? I mean, look at all of you!” 

Both paused, turning to where the not-as-quiet-as-planned voice originated. Their visitor looked… deeply uncomfortable. Keith could tell he wasn’t the only one affected by that either. This Lance, a lot like their own, shifted uneasily under their, well intentioned, scrutiny. “I’m not really a maths guy but, uh, looks like there’s a lot more paladins than lions?” 

Keith can’t help but smile, hearing echoes of a different conversation. 

Hunk chimed in, “Oh, well, Coran and Romelle,” the two alteans waved helpfully. Lance waved back, a bit confused. “Aren’t paladins. They are a part of Team Voltron though!” 

Lance nodded, still visibly confused but gamely following along. “Uh huh…” he pointed between all the armor, clearly glad to be off the topic of his supposed destiny.

Hunk chuckled, “Right! Right. So, I fly Yellow.” The Yellow paladin gestured to his correspondingly colored armor before pointing over at the mound of electronics.

“Pidge flys Green.” A small hand shot up, waved for half a tick, and then vanished once more.

“Allura pilots Blue,” He paused and looked at Lance “Yeah, I know, she’s in pink but that’s ‘cause you’re usually in the blue armor.”

Lance’s face screwed up, “I thought,” he gestured vaguely over at the unresponsive lion, “I thought we flew Red? What’s with the-”

“Keith used to fly Red but now he flies Black.”

The Lance squinted, clearly trying to cobble together whatever myths of Voltron existed in his universe with this new and entirely too casually delivered first hand information about the mythic Lions of Voltron and their prehensity to trade pilots around like shared toys. He opened his mouth, closed it, and slowly directed a confused gaze over at the black armored Shiro. The oldest paladin raised his hand, “I flew the Black Lion until my body was destroyed during a battle against Zarkon. Then I was replaced by a clone created by Haggar for awhile before the Black Lion was able to project my spirit back into the clone’s body.” 

Lance blinked hard, shook his head, and looked beseechingly up at the sky. 

Shiro laughed and clapped a hand to his shoulder, “Yeah, me too buddy.” 

* * *

By the time Keith is back with the additional power cells, and who the hell let Pidge organize _anything_ much less their _emergency power cells_ , Shiro and Allura have quietly pressed several chips worth of data into Lance’s palms which were then summarily squirreled away with the rest of his armoury.

Keith finds he’s a little disappointed he missed the show. He knew the suit had more pockets than he was used to but that had just been impressive. 

“Arus. Got it. I’ll see if I can’t convince Antok that this’ll work as a cool down exercise. If not…” He trailed off and shrugged, implying that he’d get there one improvisation or another. 

Allura seemed a bit concerned. “Could you not just present this to Kolivan?”

“No.” Lance says.

Even Krolia seems a bit taken aback by the certainty in the marmoran's voice. “You are Antok’s hidesh. Kolivan surely-”

Lance shook his head, almost looking a little sad. “I’m also impure. According to Antok, mom isn't exactly seven-sent herself. Kolivan letting me this far has been a miracle in and of itself. None of my siblings have had half the opportunities I have.” Lance closed his fist over the last data chip with a cheerful grin. “Don’t worry. I won’t mess this up.” His hands, when he opens them to wave farewell, are empty. 

“Wait, if you’ve never met any of us- how did you know Keith was part galra?”

“Oh, uh,” Lance flushed, the bridge of his nose flaring a soft red as he stood inches from the portal. “I can smell him.”

The underside of Krolia’s hair fluffed out even as Lance ducked his chin to his chest, shoulders up around his ears. 

Keith dropped the empty crate he was carting with a loud clatter. 

“You can _what._ ”

* * *

“Don’t take the ‘smelling’ thing too personally. Our’s recognized you in the dark from like, twenty kilometers out. It’s how we ended up on your bike in the first place.”

This, strangely, didn’t seem to make Keith or Krolia feel any better. 

“What?!”

“Well, I mean, he had those goggles.” Hunk soothed ineffectively.

Pidge blinked and then slowly smirked. “Huh. You’re right, he did.” She shot a sly glance over at Keith. “Thought he was ‘bad with names’ though?”

Hunk scoffed, “Lance? Forget Keith? Nu-uh. I swear I heard more about Keith those months than all our time here in space _combined_.” 

Shiro looked between the green and yellow paladins, still half awaiting a punch-line as Keith and his mother started to whisper furiously at each other in the background. “Go back to the part where he clocked Keith in the dark from a stadium away?”

Pidge snickered, “Don’t forget he got him from the back of his head.” 

“Back of his _something_ all right…” Hunk muttered.

Shiro looked over at him and Hunk jerked in place, “Nothing! I mean, yeah, wow! What were the odds, right?”

“Hunk-” 

“Hahahaa, look at the time! I’ve suddenly and inexplicably realized that I need to get started on dinner! Gottagobye!”

Pidge snorted, apropos of _nothing_ , and said, “You know what? Fifty bucks Lance gets his ballsy attitude and xenophilia from his dad.”

Shiro, halfway to his feet with an amused smirk, slips and crashes back to the ground, good arm wheeling useless in the air as he tries to brace himself with an arm that was no longer there. 

“ _OH MY GOD, PIDGE!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half Galran Lance, raised by the BoM
> 
> +Doesn’t look any different (physically) from their Lance (again).  
> +Well, yes he does. He’s taller and more muscular but still twiggy despite the obvious lean bulk this one has. He’s clearly not yet full grown and it paints an interesting picture of his genetics. (Yes, everyone looks between 20yr old Keith and this 17 yr old Lance and are like… y’all’re… the same… height. Keith ain’t having it, stfu all of you.)  
> +He’s in marmoran gear  
> +Lance = Lanzak, but he’s quick to adopt the “human name”.  
> +My BoM HC’s run fucking wild, brace yourselves  
> +Armed to the teeth  
> +Really casual about being armed to the teeth  
> +Is totally that ‘Disarm yourself’ meme where he’s pulling a stupid number of weapons from improbable locations and then, when seriously pressed, will pull out one last tiny gun with a pout. (Krolia is the one who presses him)  
> +Asks after Antok and no one knows how to tell him that Antok is dead in this universe.  
> +Lance is hella respectful/scared of Krolia. Clearly, they’ve crossed paths in his universe.  
> +There are no Paladins of Voltron in his universe

**Author's Note:**

> The current plan for the 11 promised chapters are as follows:
> 
> 1\. Beta-Design Lance [POSTED]  
> 2\. 80’s Voltron Lance [POSTED]  
> 3\. Half Galran Lance, raised by the BoM [POSTED]  
> 4\. Half Galran Lance, Raised on Earth (Inspired by Caseydamnbro's art)  
> 5\. Partial-Altean Lance  
> 6\. Voltron Force Lance [WIP - Requested by ShiranaiAtsune & Z3r0n1us]  
> 7\. Season 8 Lance (I'M TAKING AIM) [WIP]  
> 8\. "Galra Lance"  
> 9\. “Full Altean Lance” [WIP]  
> 10\. LEAKIRA LEAKIRA (to the tune of 'SHAKIRA'x2)  
> 11\. Meme Team Lance (aka the Plug shot)  
> 12\. "Rebel Lance"
> 
> If there's a Lance you'd like to see leave me a comment in the style of a prompt. The more info I get the more likley I'll be to add one in here.


End file.
